You can’t beat a nice relaxing fish. A chance to take the worries of the world off your shoulders, toss them into the river, and watch as they drift dreamily downstream. A chance to truly feel at ease and at peace with the world. Not for Cliff. Look at those eyes. Harrowing.
"How much longer are they going to make me bounce this ball for? I hate basketball. It’s late. I’m tired. So tired."
How could this situation have been allowed to happen? Don’t you have a minder, Cliff?
Cliff, please, it’s no good beaming from ear to ear if you can’t take the haunting look of dejection from your eyes.
New Cliff calendar on the way. Can’t wait.
Whoa! Careful Cliff, that croc might kill you. Oh no, silly me, look at those eyes. You died a long time ago.
Despondency de·spond·en·cy /dɪˈspɒn (noun) state of being despondent; depression of spirits from loss of courage or hope; dejection.
The surfboard, like the weight of abject sorrow he carries on his shoulders each day, is weighing Cliff down. How much longer can he support it? How long until the burden of wretchedness finally overpowers him? Look at those eyes… Not long.
There’s plenty of life left in that body of yours, Cliff. Not sure about the eyes though. Look a touch dead to me.
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